


Live in Fear

by lidiamartini



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, M/M, aka that fic where one kisses the other to steal their wallet.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lidiamartini/pseuds/lidiamartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world tastes better with the thought of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ronan should have expected this much. A flame doesn't turn cool when you can't see it any more. If you walk out of the room, the fire is still crackling, ready to burn down the town. Similarly, Kavinsky doesn't stop being Kavinsky when you can feel his lips on yours. 

....

 

There are places in the night not meant for the weak-hearted. The realm just outside of sanity, the place where only a few could go. To find it, follow the sounds of teenagers dying in bursts of life. Follow the scent of sweat and beer and electricity and it will be there. It was like this that Ronan found the races.

Cars line up to kill without thought. Intersections turn green and cars leave a trail of light in their wake as they speed away into the night. When Ronan stepped out of the car and spotted Kavinsky leaning against the car with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, he walked over and sat on the hood of the vehicle, as well. Neither said a word. 

Loud music with an even louder base rumbled through their bones and shook their whole bodies. 

"We on the same page?" Kavinsky asked suddenly.

Ronan sharply turned his head at the words. "What do you mean?"

Still looking straight ahead with a look of odd calm on his face, Kavinsky continued. "You wanna get out of here?" A razor blade smile graced his face.

Neon lights illuminated their faces and cast them in shadows. 

Ronan took a chance. 

Together, they ended up in the backseat of the Mitsubishi, crammed just enough to be touching by default. 

It's difficult to explain how Ronan knew what he was doing. He didn't exactly "get around". Ronan does not do relationships. Ronan, quite frankly, does not do feelings in general. Often the best method was to cover them up. As a remedy, Ronan had gathered himself a wide variety of one night stands. Nights in alleys, unable to see the other boy's face. Midnights covered in shadows made it a bit easier to ignore the guilt and focus on pleasure. 

So this was how Ronan lived. Anonymous. Empty. Until now.

Their faces were inches apart, and Ronan could feel Kavinsky's breath on his skin and see his heavy lidded eyes. Eventually, it was Kavinsky that closed the gap, and Ronan's world was torn apart. An experience like a burning sheet of paper. It curled around the edges and was left different- destroyed, but beautifully. Ronan was not used to being beautiful. Ronan was an exceptional force of nature. A hurricane that will not spare you if you're in its line of fire. Kavinsky made him feel like the storm was calming down. Not losing steam or dying out. Calming down.

Ronan pushed his mouth forward just slightly against Kavinsky's, and he responded with a low moan. Kavinsky placed his hands on Ronan's side and slowly sunk down into the seat so Ronan was above him. Ronan's elbows were placed on either side on Kavinsky's head and his knee was between his legs. Fingers teased below the hem of tattered t-shirts. Freezing hands touched stomachs and explored the other's body. In the background, an explosion of some sort went off and Ronan pulled back an inch, staring down at Kavinsky with wide eyes. 

"Nice," Kavinsky whispered.

....

Ronan was rudely shaken out of his reverie when he got back to Monmouth Manufacturing and tried to find his wallet. His good mood quickly dissolved and hardened when he remembered Kavinsky's hand barely touching the back pocket of his jeans. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. 

"That piece of /shit/."

To: K  
From: Ronan Lynch  
2:37 A.M.  
give me my walle t back

A reply came instantly.

To: Ronan  
From: Joseph Kavinsky  
2:37 A.M.  
r we fighting for custody already i thought we had a good run

To: K  
From: Ronan Lynch  
2:39 A.M.  
fucking asshole

To: Ronan  
From: Joseph Kavinsky  
2:43 A.M.  
unfortunately not tonight maybe tomorrow

Ronan's phone was thrown across his room.

Kavinsky opened the stolen wallet and took out the driver's license. The next morning, and identical one was sitting in his palm. 

....

 

Kavinsky woke up to a loud banging on his front door. He groaned and threw the heaviest object within arm's reach at the door. A silver vase crashed against the door and momentarily silences the knocking. Finally, the person on the other side got fed up and simply picked the lock.

Ronan stalked into his room and saw Kavinsky looking up at him blearily from the bed. 

"Watchu want princess," Kavinsky said, his voice slurred with sleep. Ronan rolled his eyes. 

"Don't play stupid. I know it's easy for you, but let's try here."

While Ronan searched around the room furiously, Kavinsky propped himself up his elbows and watched Ronan.

"Where'd you learn to kiss like that, anyway?"

"Your dad."

"Reasonable explanation."

When Ronan found his wallet in the bedside table drawer, he snatched it up, and, after rifling through its contents to ensure that everything was still there, stalked out of the room. The door slammed behind him.

"See you in the streets," Kavinsky said to thin air.

....

 

Ronan doesn't usually go to Nino's on his own. Tonight was a special circumstance. Gansey and Adam were gone at some party and Noah was M.I.A., though Blue was probably somewhere here for her shift. He shuffled into the restaurant and caught Blue's eye. They silently acknowledged each other across the room with a nod and she made her way over to the table where the menus were held in anticipation. 

Ronan lives a fucking cliche movie. In his normal booth sat Kavinsky, staring at him straight through the sunglasses that always covered his eyes. When Ronan sat down stiffly in front of Kavinsky, he saw him raise a single eyebrow. 

"Well? Tired of the brothel already?" Kavinsky asked.

Ronan slowly leaned across the table and removed Kavinsky's sunglasses from his face, placing them on the space next to their hands.

In that moment, Blue arrived with waters and a warning look for Ronan. When he saw this, Ronan looked Blue in the eye with an 'I know what I'm doing' look painted on his face. Blue looked doubtful, but trusted him enough to know when to back off. She took their orders and walked away with her head held high. All through the restaurant the customers and employees alike avoided looking at their table in particular. Everyone knew about Ronan Lynch, and everyone knew about Joseph Kavinsky. But Ronan Lynch And Joseph Kavinsky as one whole was something else entirely. Eyes were averted when Ronan or Kavinsky looked around. Heads ducked closer to their food and shoulders hunched under watchful gazes. 

When Ronan looked back at Kavinsky's face and truly saw his eyes behind his sunglasses, he was struck with something between horror and concern. Kavinsky's eyes were dark and tired, bloodshot and struggling to stay open. 

"Fuck, man. When was the last time you slept?"

"'That world unknown yet revered by fear// That surrounds a man when he goes to sleep,'" Kavinsky quoted. "Elazia."

"You're even higher than most people give you credit for. I'm impressed."

"I give it my best shot."

After their food was eaten over complete silence, Ronan supported Kavinsky as he used his last ounces of energy to walk outside. 

"Four and a half days."

Ronan stopped walking and turned his head to Kavinsky. "What?"

"You asked how long it's been since I've slept."

"Are you serious?" A pause. "Ok hold up you can get the Mitsubishi later c'mon."

"I'm not completely incompetent dickhead."

Ronan considered this. He wasn't so much worried about Kavinsky's safety as he was about the people around him. No one deserved to die at the hands of some sleep deprived sociopath. He told Kavinsky this and he snorted, but gave in. 

They piled into the BMW and on the ride to Monmouth Manufacturing, neither said a word. Kavinsky lay sprawled out with one leg on the dashboard and a joint in his mouth. 

Ronan turned with an incredulous look on his face. 

"Are you actually serious right now?"

Kavinsky shrugged. 

"No you piece of shit toss it out you're not smoking up my car get high in your own home."

Kavinsky rolled his eyes and groaned but tossed the lit smoke out the window and watched it fall to the ground and sizzle out. 

They pulled up to Monmouth Manufacturing and this time Ronan did not help Kavinsky up. Kavinsky expected this much.

Ronan manhandled the door and shook it until it finally opened for them and motioned for Kavinsky to lay down anywhere. "Knock yourself out."

Kavinsky slowly walked over to Ronan and looked straight at him with eyes that haven't seen peace or goodness in too long. Kavinsky was pale and had been dead for much longer than anyone really realized. He smiled and pressed his mouth against Ronan's for a brief second. It tasted vaguely like kissing an ashtray. 

"If you really wanted to take me home, you could've just asked."

He sat down and for the first time in a while, slept without stealing.


	2. Take Me to Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to Take Me to Church by Hozier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI any views that these characters might not necessarily be mine, as well. Kavinsky is an offensive asshole, and I have to write him like that sometimes.   
> ...  
>  sorry its so short but idk i'd rather have more frequent updates than really long chapters that I never get around to posting

Ronan was conflicted.

Kavinsky had been sleeping for a little over half a day, but Gansey and Adam were due home any minute. On cue, Ronan's phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling a new text.

To: Ronan Lynch  
From: Gansey  
1:37 P.M.  
Almost back. Running a little late. 

To: Gansey  
From: Ronan Lynch  
1:39 P.M.  
K

Ronan looked at Kavinsky for a second, and after a moment of consideration, launched a pillow across the room and onto Kavinsky's head. He just groaned. Ronan looked around, his eyes catching on the light switch. He stretched his arm out a bit and started flicking the light on and off.

"Earthquake. Get up. It's the second coming. You're going to hell. Get up."

Kavinsky groaned louder, but eventually shoved the pillow off of his face and opened his eyes. Progress. 

"If I go get aspirin will you fall back asleep?"

"Yeah."

They stared at each other. Kavinsky looked up at Ronan blearily, his eyes slightly squinted at the too bright lights. His hair gel had worn out a bit, and his hair was stuck in all different angles. A beautiful mess. To be honest, Ronan wasn't sure he was worth the effort. 

Kavinsky was the sort of person that knew he was a bad person and didn't seem to care. He was led down a winding road of substance abuse and murder in the beginning of his life, but continued down the path long after it was a choice. He chose to lead this life. He was beyond reason. And that was where Ronan faced a dead end. 

Ronan does not "save" people. His goal in life wasn't to find the pretty boys that need his help. God knows Ronan wasn't someone that should be giving advice. He was just as screwed up as everyone in the fucking world, but he had a soul. Ronan could be saved. It got a bit easier with each passing day. 

So maybe it was the desire to bring someone along for the ride. Maybe Ronan wanted to finally have someone in the same boat as him. Maybe he knew that deep down, Kavinsky more than likely cared about something more than sex, drugs, and cars. Whatever it was, Ronan found himself walking out of the room on Sunday afternoon and returning with two button down shirts and two matching ties. He threw one of each on Kavinsky's head, saying, "Hurry your ass up and we can still make 2:30 mass. Look presentable."

Kavinsky gaped. "Are you trying to fix me? Take me to church to see the light and learn to follow our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?"

Ronan paused for a moment, contemplating his motives. "Frankly, I have to leave and I don't want you alone in my home," he concluded. 

With more than a little confusion in his features, Kavinsky slowly pulled on the button up and tied the tie. He rummaged around the room for slacks that fit him, and motioned for Ronan's approval with a dead look on his face. 

"Fine, princess?"

Ronan nodded slowly before walking out of Monmouth Manufacturing, and it was clear he expected Kavinsky to come along as well. 

It was almost unheard of to have a Lynch brother appear to church without the other brothers. It was even more unordinary to see him accompanied by anyone that clearly was not a relative. No matter how odd other people perceived this as, they accepted it. They were all here for the same reason, and the gossip could wait for the after-mass coffee.

As Kavinsky kneeled next to Ronan in the pew, he looked around the room with a bored look on his face. He scanned the other parishioners, organizing them in his head. If the room went silent, he could be heard labeling everyone under his breath. 

"Stripper trying to save her soul," he whispered. He saw an middle-aged man sitting with his family, staring off into space. "White dad here for donuts." He continued until Ronan dug his nails into his hand when they shook hands while giving peace.

"Peace be with you," Ronan ground out. 

"And also with you," Kavinsky said lightly, grinning. When he caught the eye of the woman behind them, she faltered a bit, horrified. 

When it came time for communion, it wasn't a question that Kavinsky was staying back. An old woman sitting next to them that clearly didn't get this message kindly said to Kavinsky on her way up, "You can still recieve The Lord's grace, son. He will bless you if you walk up and cross your arms over your chest, like this." She demonstrated. When he saw that she was talking to him, Kavinsky glared at her with disgust. "Move along, bitch."

She was hurt, and he saw that. Kavinsky thrived on that normally, but truth be told, offending an old lady wasn't exactly an impressive feat. He slumped in his seat and watched Ronan receive the Host. 

When Ronan returned to them, Kavinsky watched him mouth the words to a silent prayer. His head was down and his hands clasped, and a small portion of his tattoo was visible. As the communion song ended, Ronan opened his eyes and lifted his head. 

Kavinsky looked away. 

On the way out of the church, he even blessed himself.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh just trying to get their characters down help


End file.
